


The Prince of Roses

by Hanatamago



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Curses, First Kiss, M/M, Sleeping Beauty AU, fairytale AU, fic based on art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago
Summary: Ashe sneaks into the Rose Palace, a silent, crumbling castle that has been under a mysterious witch's curse for the past seven years. He only means to swipe a few shiny things to sell for food, but when he climbs the palace tower, he finds something far more valuable hidden at the top.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	The Prince of Roses

**Author's Note:**

> My second piece originally written for the Ashedue Storybook zine! Thanks so much (again) to the mods for making that happen :)
> 
> For this piece, I got to collab with the incredible [@squiddlybopbop](https://twitter.com/squiddlybopbop), check out the awesome awesome awesome piece they did for this story [here](https://twitter.com/squiddlybopbop/status/1359218444386717699)!

Ouch!

Ashe sucks a pinprick of blood away from the cut on his thumb. It’s the fifth little scrape he’s gotten on his journey - at least, that’s how many he’s felt. It’s hard to say, though. As Ashe crawls through the thorny, crumbling landscape of the old palace, he seems to pick up more and more tiny cuts along the way.

The Rose Palace, they called it once. The heart of Duscur, home of the royal family and the most amazing gardens this side of the mountains. It really must have been beautiful, Ashe thinks, or people wouldn’t brag about how they had seen it before the curse. ‘Before’ was nearly seven years ago.

But now, the palace is overgrown with magical vines prickling with spiny, violet thorns. Terrible tendrils climb all the way up the outer walls, spilling over into the courtyard below. Even now, seven years later, the curse’s hold on the town is unyielding. The vines continue to grow, spiraling up the tallest towers and creeping through the grass outside the walls.

Truth be told, the scary-looking thorns at the gates aren’t so bad. They’re much less scary than the looming guards other palaces have posted - and much easier to slip past, too. Besides, he doesn’t feel as bad about stealing from a vacant kingdom as he would from normal people. Hey, they’re not using any of it anyway, right?

Though the outer stone walls of the keep crumble to dust as nature reclaims the Rose Palace, the town inside is untouched by time. Ashe walks through the quiet town square. Quiet is an understatement, really. All throughout the town, villagers silently slumber under the thick, sleepy enchantment. Though the vines have grown and sprawled over the keep, the rest of the town seems nearly normal - as if it were simply any other day in any other town. 

There’s not a speck of dust in sight. Freshly steamed buns sit on the bakery racks, smelling of cinnamon and savory spices. It’s like the whole world just stopped, but only within the castle walls. Ashe swipes a bun from the bakery and heads into the palace. Beyond all reason, it tasted just as fresh as it looked. But then, Ashe supposed some magic must be at play to keep all the townsfolk alive and well, too.

Rich silk tapestries and polished stonework accent the palace halls. He’s never been among royalty before, but Ashe wonders if the Duscur royals found the decor just as stunning - or if they eventually took the palace’s beauty for granted. It seemed well taken care of, at least. It was almost a shame to pilfer the place, but, well… Who would notice?

The grand hall seems so empty. Too large for the slumbering town. Ashe wondered, did they hold balls often? And were they as magical as Ashe imagined them to be? Probably not, but how lovely they might have been! He can almost imagine it now - fine music and tasty snacks, luxurious silk garments, and the buzz of laughter... He’d never in his life see something so grand. At least, not without peeking through foggy windows under the cover of night. But still, it was fun to dream of. 

Ashe climbs the tall, curling staircase, swiping little golden candlesticks and valuable odds and ends from each floor along the way. The vines grow thicker and the thorns sharper as he rises. He follows the malignant vines, more out of instinct than intention. They seem to sprout from one central room at the top of the tower. Maybe that’s where the spell had planted its roots...

And Ashe… As always, his curiosity gets the better of him. He slips into the room, quiet as a ghost (but certainly less spooky). The heavy oak door opens with a click. He doesn’t bother to close it - everyone’s asleep anyway, right? Rich cerulean curtains drape the windows, parted to let natural sunlight trickle through. Fine, dark wood furniture fills the room: crowded bookshelves, a neatly kept desk, and a large bed with embroidered blankets. It’s cozier than he expected, compared to the blatant luxury of the floors below.

A man lies in the bed - the most _beautiful_ man Ashe has ever seen. He holds a single rose clutched to his chest. Thick ivory hair fans out across the plush pillows, stark against them like the driven snow. His skin, warm as amber, glows under the soft daylight. He is the Prince of Roses, forced into an enchanted sleep by some mysterious, wicked witch. It _must_ be him, sleeping here in the heart of the palace surrounded by vines. It is in his chambers that the spell has taken root.

He looks peaceful. Undisturbed until Ashe trespassed. Ashe moves before he can think, leaning down to thread his fingers between those silver locks. It’s just as soft as it looks. Time has not weathered him at all - he looks as though he’s merely taking a nap!

It’s ridiculous, but…

Ashe leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the prince’s lips. It’s hardly the barest touch, but Ashe can’t help but take the chance. He doesn’t stir. Of course he doesn’t. Ashe has heard the stories - he knows better, doesn’t he? Such curses can only be broken by true love’s kiss, and he’s a thief! Certainly no Prince Charming. He has no place in the prince’s magical story. A royal prince would never fall for him, especially one so beautiful as the man beside him, especially-

“You are real,” the prince murmurs, voice rough from disuse. Ashe’s eyes shoot open in shock. He nearly jumps off the bed. He shyly meets the prince’s sleepy turquoise gaze. He slowly places a hand over Ashe’s own, as if to test his realness anyway. After such a long slumber, Ashe couldn’t really blame him.

“Haha, um, yes,” Ashe stammers, nearly as disbelieving as the prince. “W-why wouldn’t I be?” The prince smiles.

“I thought I might still have been dreaming.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was such a fun concept to write for, and the art squid made was so pretty! I hope that the fic lived up to that :)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Come say hi on Twitter :)  
> [@hanatamagos](https://twitter.com/hanatamagos)


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